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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139729">The Gods Are At It Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous'>HipHopAnonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Collaboration, Fanart, M/M, Other, Spanking, Top Crowley (Good Omens), mild exhibitionism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:46:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HipHopAnonymous/pseuds/HipHopAnonymous</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The pagan god Cupid (sometimes called Eros or Amor) is often depicted as a small, winged boy who wields a bow with magic arrows that can make people fall in love. This mischievous power has the potential to cause a great deal of trouble, and so there are many pieces of art from antiquity to the present day in which Cupid is shown being spanked, usually by his mother, Venus (or Aphrodite). However, what if the mythology and resulting artistic motif were actually inspired by a pair of supernatural beings playing their own naughty games of love?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Love and Lust Through the Ages Volume II</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Gods Are At It Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was my fic for Volume II of the Love and Lust Through the Ages Zine!</p><p>A collab with the talented <a href="https://twitter.com/Aiverin">Aivelin</a></p><p>
  <a href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/b9a19bdb39ca68d3c5e84cece9575cbd/214b9d75db57488b-f6/s640x960/c7f939e4374a81a0d78d8724d15f6e25e5c90434.jpg">Link to (shockingly) SFW art!</a>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey look, Angel, it’s you!”</p><p>Crowley’s voice echoed loudly in the marble hall of the art gallery, and Aziraphale’s cheeks heated instantly. He didn’t even need to look to have a good idea which painting Crowley was trying to show him. He’d held out hope that this particular museum wouldn’t house any of <em>those</em> pieces. Unfortunately, there were just so many versions of the damn thing that he was never going to live it down. Especially not with Crowley <em>reminding</em> him so often. He was already regretting allowing Crowley to talk him into an afternoon away from the cottage to peruse the nearby gallery.</p><p>He spared a quick glance at the seemingly enormous painting, his ears ringing with embarrassment. <em>Ah, the Hans Zatzka.</em> A more recent rendition. The painting — which Aziraphale suspected may have been a recreation, but he had no intention of inspecting it more closely than the covert glimpse he’d already given — depicted a young, well-dressed woman with a small, chubby, <em>naked </em>angel laid out across her lap for a spanking. The angel had a cute little pair of wings, and had lost his grip on a bow and several arrows. The woman was wielding a small bundle of twigs in her hand which was raised in the air, poised mid-spank. The two characters looked absolutely gleeful, to boot.</p><p>It was yet another artistic interpretation of the Goddess Venus (or Aphrodite if you asked the Greeks) chastising her son Eros (Cupid, as he was later renamed.) Cupid was, of course, almost always depicted as a pudgy, <em>cherubic</em> little angel. Aziraphale was more than familiar with human mythology. All those stories and legends that kept being passed down <em>ad nauseum </em>after a few humans had witnessed, on more than one indiscreet occasion, a certain angel and demon indulging in a bit of recreational penitence.</p><p>Of course, the humans had made incorrect assumptions, as they are wont to do, recognizing the entities as ephemeral, but only able to grasp at straws as to their true identities. At the time, Gods and Goddesses were all the rage, so it stood to reason that Crowley and Aziraphale appeared to be ‘Venus and Cupid’ to the onlooking mortals.</p><p>“It is <em>not </em>me!” Aziraphale replied instinctively, turning pointedly away with a huff.</p><p>It was a ridiculous response since the angel in the painting most assuredly <em>was</em> him, technically, and they both knew it. Nobody else would recognize the artist’s rendition of Aziraphale, though. Not only had he looked decidedly different at the times when they were <em>seen</em>, but Artistic license and faulty human memories assured any sense of accuracy was lost over the ages as the story was passed down and art was created, recreated, and reinterpreted. However, this didn’t stop Aziraphale’s face from going beet red whenever he was in proximity to some illustrated depiction of him getting his bare bottom spanked over Crowley’s knee! He only thanked Heaven that they had been caught before the advent of the camera. Still, <em>he</em> knew and <em>Crowley</em> knew, and Crowley loved to tease him about it mercilessly whenever they stumbled upon any such work of art inspired by the two of them. Sometimes, Crowley even pulled up one of the images on his phone to show Aziraphale (usually as a pointed reminder to stop being so cheeky lest Crowley put him back over his knee again!) This never failed to fluster the Principality beyond all measure, which was exactly why Crowley insisted on doing it, of course.</p><p>Crowley chuckled and put his hands on his hips, tipping his head towards the Zatzka painting. “It is <em>too </em>you! They got your pudgy little arse just right in this one!”</p><p>Aziraphale looked around frantically, as though a human might actually hear and thus recognize his naked bottom in the painting. Once he’d confirmed they were alone, he gave the painting another sidelong glance. “It isn’t <em>that</em> pudgy!” he said petulantly.</p><p>Crowley rubbed his chin, squinting at the art. “Sure it is! Though I’ll admit the rest doesn’t look particularly like you do now. Maybe not even then, but you know how human memories are.” He shrugged.</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I was spreading blessings to do with love while trying to look cute, innocent, and unassuming. Humans were still terribly frightened of Gods and Angels back in the day, if you’ll recall!”</p><p>Crowley nodded absently, still staring at the painting. “I think I like the Jean-Marc Nattier version best,” he mused.</p><p>“The thorns on those roses <em>hurt</em>,” Aziraphale said with a pout. “Who spanks someone with a bouquet of roses?”</p><p>“Well, they were there, conveniently in reach, and you deserved it! You were just being so naughty! Messing about with those blessed arrows, spreading love and lust as though Heaven understands any of it. If the Almighty wanted the humans boinking each other more frequently, She should have left it to Hell. We’re the experts, after all!” It was an ancient argument between the two of them and Aziraphale only pursed his lips in response. As Aziraphale had explained at length, it was far more complicated than humans merely <em>knowing</em> one another in the Biblical sense. Important matters of begetting were at stake. “And you were such a cheeky little bastard about it, too,” Crowley added, though he smiled and reached for Aziraphale’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Besides, you <em>like</em> being taken over my knee.”</p><p>Aziraphale harrumphed, cheeks pink, but he squeezed Crowley’s hand to show there weren’t any hard feelings. “Do you <em>really</em> think my backside is that big?” He frowned.</p><p>“I was gonna say it’s bigger,” Crowley said with a flash of canine.</p><p>Aziraphale turned to gape at him, and, offended, tried to pull his hand away.</p><p>“I’m only teasing, Angel!” Crowley said, holding on tight and pulling Aziraphale into a reluctant hug. “You know I love the way you look. Always have.”</p><p>“Easy for you to say,” Aziraphale grumbled. “You’re the one they saw as some beautiful goddess while I was a … a chubby little imp!”</p><p>“I’d say you were more like a sexy, incorrigible little brat,” Crowley said, trailing his hand down to Aziraphale’s backside to squeeze one plump buttock through his trousers.</p><p>“Oh, you! You’ll never let me live it down, will you?”</p><p>“I think a part of you enjoys the attention, Angel. At least a little bit. Besides, the humans might not have thought anything of it if you’d kept your wings away!”</p><p>Aziraphale scoffed. “I was distracted! You try staying composed while someone is … wailing away at your bare rump!” His cheeks darkened further. “Perhaps you should have worked harder to keep your <em>breasts </em>put away!”</p><p>It was Crowley’s turn to look offended. It was true that Crowley-mistaken-as-the-Goddess-Venus was often depicted as topless, or even naked. “Oh yeah? Well, you try holding a flailing Principality down over your knee in those old drapey robes without suffering a little nip slip!”</p><p>Their respective glares fell almost immediately as they both erupted into a fit of giggles.</p><p>Crowley squeezed Aziraphale in another embrace, kissing him on the temple. “This is a fancy museum, Angel. Behave yourself … unless you’re looking for yet another smacked bottom, my naughty cherub?”</p><p>Aziraphale sighed. “I <em>was</em> of the Cherubim once, however, the correct term for how I was presenting the first time you … er … you and I were <em>seen</em> is Putti, dear boy.”</p><p>“Know-it-all,” Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. “You really are itching for another spanking, aren’t you? Perhaps we can inspire a whole new generation of humans to illustrate your bright red arse! Someone might even film a Tik-Tok on their phone. Come ‘ere!”</p><p>Crowley grabbed Aziraphale by the wrist and dragged him, blushing and spluttering all the way, over to a bench against the wall where he plopped down and yanked him across his knee.</p><p>“You can’t be serious!” Aziraphale cried frantically. He glanced towards the entrance with concern only to see a security guard frozen mid yawn, as well as a woman poised in an awkward position, bending down to reach for a piece of paper she’d dropped on the floor. <em>Oh</em>. “You stopped time.”</p><p>“Of course I did,” Crowley said, undeterred as he used a demonic miracle to unfasten Aziraphale’s trousers before tugging them down to his knees. “Can’t have anyone else peeking at <em>my</em> angel’s arse again, can I?” The words came out with a bit of a possessive growl that lit a spark of desire in Aziraphale’s middle.</p><p>Aziraphale lifted his hips to allow Crowley to work his briefs down to meet his trousers, eager now that he knew they weren’t actually putting on a show. “Is that why you learned to stop time?” he asked, a playful smile on his lips, “So that you can have your way with me any time or place ... without risking witnesses?”</p><p>“No, but I’ll admit it’s a major perk.” Crowley licked his lips and ran his hand over Aziraphale’s naked buttocks.</p><p>“Oh, goodness, I can’t believe I’m allowing this,” Aziraphale grumbled, but the wiggle of his hips was impatient, if anything.</p><p>Crowley delivered a sharp, open-handed smack to the center of Aziraphale’s round bottom. The <em>slap!</em> of skin striking skin reverberated through the vast, open hallway, and Aziraphale made an indignant little squeak as he kicked a foot in the air.</p><p>“<em>Allowing?</em>” Crowley hissed, following up with a volley of sharp spanks to Aziraphale’s bare rump.</p><p>Aziraphale gasped out “<em>Ooh! Ooh! Oooh!</em>” with every smack as he squirmed, clenching his wobbling buttocks where the skin was beginning to bloom pink from the repeated impact of Crowley’s palm.</p><p>“An angel doesn’t <em>allow</em> a demon to take him in hand when he’s naughty. This is punishment, and I’m clearly going too easy if you still think you’re in charge here, little cherub!”</p><p>His claim was, of course, nothing more than puffed up bravado, as Aziraphale was very much ‘in charge here’ — always bratting his way over Crowley’s knee, onto his cock, and straight into the demon’s heart. Crowley had been enthralled by this sweet, lovely, <em>naughty</em> angel since Eden, and he was such a slave to Aziraphale’s desires that he sometimes wondered if the angel had somehow gotten him with one of those Cupid arrows without him noticing.</p><p>However, Crowley would never spoil the illusion, and so he furrowed his brow and got serious, using a minor demonic miracle to ensure his hand didn’t get sore as he turned up the heat in Aziraphale’s mischievous bottom. Aziraphale squealed and writhed, kicked and howled as his bare buttocks were very soundly spanked, secure in the knowledge that <em>this time</em> they wouldn’t be spied upon by any meddlesome humans, and so he needn’t hold back.</p><p>Crowley didn’t let up until Aziraphale’s wiggling and jiggling bottom had turned a uniform shade of scarlet and the angel was gasping and moaning, the throaty sounds having taken on a pitch of need rather than objection. Aziraphale was thrusting now, practically pushing his backside up to meet the slaps of Crowley’s hand and then grinding down against the demon’s thigh. Crowley stopped spanking and ran his hand gently over Aziraphale’s blazing rump, the skin quite warm after such thorough chastisement. Even if the other angels in heaven didn’t understand about lust, Crowley had to admit that the angel currently over his knee certainly knew a thing or two.</p><p>“Shall we move this somewhere a bit more private?” Aziraphale asked, still panting, face ruddy, boiling hot and throbbing between the legs.</p><p>Crowley helped him to his feet, and Aziraphale pulled his britches back up over the scorched flesh of his backside with a small wince, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip at the dueling sensations of pain and pleasure. He was doing up the zip when he opened his eyes and saw a security guard, not at all frozen in place, giving them a suspicious look from down the hall.</p><p>“Crowley!” he scolded, voice high as he fretted someone may have caught a glimpse of his bare red bottom yet again. “You started time too soon! I wasn’t ready!”</p><p>“Just for old time’s sake,” Crowley said with a wink.</p><p>“You fiend! I really am going to end up on one of those … tickety-tocks!”</p><p>Crowley snorted, and though he rolled his eyes, his heart swelled with affection. “No need to worry, my little Cupid. Humans rarely believe in anything supernatural anymore. Plus, you’ve finally learned to keep your wings away!” He took Aziraphale by the hand and hurried him away from the approaching guard and straight out a conveniently located emergency exit.</p><p>In the alley, he wasted no time in pushing Aziraphale against the brick wall and giving him a proper snog that left them both breathless. Aziraphale shuddered from the glorious ache in his backside rubbing up against the rough wall. Crowley was just reaching a hand between Aziraphale’s thighs to grope at his eager sex when the sudden crash of a nearby dumpster lid made them both jump. They whipped their heads to see a young man wearing headphones and a custodial uniform tossing bags of trash into the bin. He gave them a bemused look before heading back around the corner.</p><p>Aziraphale made a high sound of dismay, but Crowley nipped his ear, murmuring, “See? People aren’t as phased as they used to be. They just think we’re degenerates or something.” Aziraphale looked uncertain. “Oh, come on. Do you really think he’s off to do a painting or sculpt a statue now? He can call it ‘Middle-Aged Men Grinding in the Alley’? Or ‘Groping Old Guys’? ‘Diddled Behind the Museum,’ perhaps?”</p><p>“I’d call it ‘Eros’ myself,” Aziraphale said with a smug grin. He kissed Crowley on the lips, and it was surprisingly chaste considering the ragged, desperate state he was in. “Erotic love, my dear.”</p><p>“Oh, what does the Heavenly Host know of <em>erotic</em> love?” Crowley scoffed, pressing up against Aziraphale’s front.</p><p>He’d used that same jab so often that it held absolutely no bite, and so Aziraphale ignored it, smirking. “Hurry up and take me home …” It was Aziraphale’s turn to reach between them to grope Crowley, who he found just as eager between the legs, “and I’ll show you <em>exactly</em> what I know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://twitter.com/HipHopAnonymou9">Twitter</a><br/> </p><p>  <a href="https://hiphopanonymousao3.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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